Circulation
by Lindira
Summary: Dorian works at the research library at the University of Orlais. Lavellan can't find cookbooks. (Modern AU)


A/N: Another prompt fill from Tumblr. Modern AU.

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Dorian sat back in his chair at the circulation desk, scowling at the stack of books he still had to convert to the new digital system. When he took this job at the library, he thought he would be helping fellow graduate students do research, or perhaps negotiating interlibrary loans at the very least. Doing entry level grunt work an untrained monkey could do was not what he had in mind. Sighing, he opened the first book in the stack and scanned the barcode on the back.

"Excuse me."

Dorian looked up, still scowling, but glad for a reason to put off the tedium for a while longer. "Yes?"

The face that met his eyes belonged to a brown-haired elf with green tattoos on his face – a Dalish, Dorian supposed. He had seen the elf in the library before, wandering through the stacks and always leaving with an armful of books. If Dorian were being honest with himself, he would have to admit that he'd watched the elf with mild fascination, not merely because he was attractive, but also because he never seemed to keep to one area of the library. Dalish elves were rare enough at the University of Orlais. Finding one who was perhaps as big a bookworm as Dorian was would be a marvel.

The elf wore a scowl that almost matched the one on Dorian's own countenance. "Where are the cookbooks? I can't seem to find them anywhere."

Dorian frowned. "I don't believe we carry them. This is a research library."

The elf's brow furrowed. "So? You have comic books on the fourth floor. Is that for research?"

"Ah," Dorian said with a smirk. "Popular Cultural Studies. Perhaps not the most highbrow of research topics, but still a legitimate area of study."

"And food isn't?" The elf crossed his arms. "Everybody eats."

Dorian blinked at the elf and chuckled. "You have a point, but I'm afraid being right does not make cookbooks materialize out of thin air."

There was an odd twinkle in the elf's eyes that made Dorian feel as if he were smiling even though he wasn't. "You're a mage, aren't you? Can't you make some materialize?"

"Alas, there is no bookmaking school of magic," Dorian replied with a grin. "If there were, I'd be a much happier man."

The elf gave a little smile that made Dorian's heart flutter. As often as Dorian had watched him, he had never seen the other man smile.

Dorian cleared his throat awkwardly once it became clear that the elf was not going to say anything. "I can direct you to the Food Studies section. You're unlikely to find recipes, I'm afraid, but you might find something of interest." Feeling bold, he got up from his chair and came around the desk. "Here, let me show you."

The elf's smile widened, and Dorian's face warmed. "Lead on."

They walked together across the lobby towards the stairs. Though they could have taken the elevator, Dorian told himself that the third floor wasn't so hard to get to that they couldn't do with walking. He just needed to stretch his legs. It wasn't at all that he wanted to prolong his time with the elf. Not at all.

"I'm Aeric, by the way," the elf said, walking placidly up the stairs at Dorian's side.

Dorian smiled. "A pleasure. My name is Dorian." He paused, considering the elf. "Weren't you in here yesterday? I thought I spotted you in the Nevarran history section."

"That's right," Aeric replied with a nod.

"Do you use many dragons in your cooking?" Dorian quipped. "Searching for tips amongst the tales of the dragon hunters of old?"

There was the spark of levity in Aeric's eyes again, though his smile didn't show on his face. "Dragon is my specialty, in fact."

Dorian chuckled. He hadn't expected the serious elf to play along with his joke. "I'd like to try that sometime."

"If you stop by my restaurant, maybe you can," Aeric replied. They turned a corner and arrived at the Food Studies section. "Oh, this must be it."

"You have a restaurant?" Dorian leaned against a bookshelf and crossed his arms comfortably as Aeric perused the titles. "You must be very busy, if you're running a business while also attending school."

"School?" Aeric echoed absently. "Oh, no, I can't afford the tuition to go here. But my sister works at registration, so she got me a fake school ID so I can check out books." He blinked, then glanced up at Dorian with a sheepish smile. "Don't tell anyone about it."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Dorian smiled, watching as Aeric chose a book on the folkloric value of rice. "So, you're what? A chef? Restauranteur?"

Aeric shook his head. "My parents own the diner where I work. I'm just a cook."

"With an appetite for words as well as food, it would appear," Dorian said as Aeric chose two more books. "Didn't you check out another four books yesterday? And two before that? You must read as much as I do, and I read quite a lot."

Aeric looked up from the shelves and raised an eyebrow at Dorian. His lips quirked up in a crooked smile. "How do you know how many books I've been checking out? Have you been watching me?"

Dorian's face instantly turned hot. He sputtered, but try as he might, he could not think of a single thing to say in his defense.

Grinning, Aeric adjusted the books in his arms. "It's all right," he said. "I like knowing that I've caught the eye of such a gorgeous man."

Dorian's eyes widened before he laughed. "Sweet Maker, you're direct."

"That I am." Aeric angled his head toward the elevator. "Care to check these out for me?"

Recovering from his momentary speechlessness, Dorian smiled and nodded. "Of course. Let me help you with them."

Even after they returned to the circulation desk, Dorian's heart was still hammering in his ears. Before sliding the books back to Aeric, he scribbled a note with his phone number and tucked it under one of the covers.

 _You're rather gorgeous yourself. Call me._


End file.
